Andrew Peterson - More

^DThis is not the end here at this gra^Gve ^BmThis is just a h^Aole that someone m^Gade Ev^Dery hole was m^Gade to fill And ev^Aery heart can f^Deel it still Our na^Gture hates a vacuum

T^Dhis is not the hardest part of a^Gll T^Bmhis is just the se^Aed that has to fa^Gll A^Dll our lives we ti^Gll the ground Unt^Ail we lay our sor^Bmrows do^Dwn And wa^Dtch the sky for r^Gain

There is mo^Dre More than all this pa^Ain ^F#More than all the fa^Bmlling down And the get^Ating up ag^Gain There is m^Dore More than we can s^Aee F^F#rom our tiny va^Bmntage point In this v^Aast etern^Gity There is m^Dore

^DA thing resounds when it rings tr^Gue ^BmRinging all the be^Alls inside of y^Gou Like a gol^Dden sky on a su^Gmmer eve Your he^Aart is tugging at your s^Dleeve And y^Dou cannot say w^Ghy There must be m^Dore

There is m^Dore More than we can st^Aand Sta^F#nding in the gl^Bmory Of a l^Aove that never e^Gnds There is mo^Dre More than we can gu^Aess Mo^F#re and more, for^Bmever more And n^Aot a second le^Gss

There is m^Dore than what the naked eye can s^Gee Cl^Bmothing all our d^Aays with mys^Gtery Watc^Dhing over ever^Gything Wi^Alder than our w^Bmildest dr^Deams Could e^Dver dream to ^Gbe There is m^Dore